


I'd Love to Hold You Close, Tonight and Always

by TheMipstaz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling, Some Humor, Tattoo Artist Kira, Vaginal Fingering, Werecoyote Malia, accompanying photoset, mason really loves matthew daddario
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 08:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6559537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMipstaz/pseuds/TheMipstaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kira/Malia sex with feelings. That's it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd Love to Hold You Close, Tonight and Always

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://nevergooutofstiles.tumblr.com/post/139771308005/malira-au-where-kira-is-a-tattoo-artist-rated). And ofc I couldn't resist using [PILLOWTALK](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_3d6GntKbk) lyrics for the title.

Malia will never fail to be amused that her tatoo artist girlfriend doesn’t have any tattoos of her own. Not that Malia minds as she trails heavy kisses down Kira’s body—bruising her neck, nipping the delicate skin between her breasts, sucking love marks onto her hipbones. Her hands slip under Kira’s back, palms hot against her spine before drifting down to palm at her ass. Ink or no ink, Malia still relishes the soft, breathy, punched out noises Kira makes underneath her.

Kira gasps as Malia settles between her legs, brushing her lips against Kira’s inner thighs. Kira peers down her body, eyelids heavy and cheeks flushed and chest heaving. 

Malia has never seen anything more beautiful. Not even when Lydia dragged her to the lookout cliff in the preserve at ass o’clock in the morning to watch the sunrise, not even when Scott showed her the sparkling Californian beach for the first time last summer, not even when Mason showed her a picture of someone named Matthew Daddario. (Although, admittedly, she didn’t really understand that last one despite Mason’s insistence that he “has never seen such an ethereal creature before, hot damn.”)

The point is, Malia and Kira have had a lot of sex since they got together—like, _a lot_ —but Malia will never get tired of the way Kira gazes at her: reverent and awed. She will never get tired of the way Kira writhes on her fingers or under her tongue, the way Kira takes her breath away without even trying. Everything about Kira sends sparks skittering through Malia’s veins, the same sparks that have been dancing under her skin ever since Kira first bumped into her and spilled iced coffee all down Malia’s front. 

Kira’s eyes flutter and she throws her head back, fists clenching the bedspread, when Malia sinks her first finger in. The moans grow louder as Malia adds her tongue and crooks her finger just enough for Kira to see stars. 

“Malia,” pants Kira, thighs trembling and toes curling and back arching. She buries a hand in Malia’s hair. “ _Malia_.” 

She’s close, Malia can tell, and she redoubles her efforts even though her jaw already aches. She can smell the tension in the air, cresting like a thundercloud about to crack open with lightning showers. 

“Malia,” Kira repeats, voice raspy and eyes squeezed tightly shut, “ _please_.” 

Frustrated that Kira is stuttering on the brink, teetering on the edge, Malia gives in to her frustration and growls deep in her throat, eyes flashing electric blue. That’s the tipping point. 

Kira comes with a cry, clenching rhythmically around Malia’s fingers and shuddering through her orgasm. Malia gently works her through it with barely-there navel kisses and light pumps of her fingers until Kira groans and pulls away. 

Malia smiles smugly at the overwhelming scent of satisfaction wafting off her exhausted girlfriend. Hauling herself up the bed, she presses a kiss to Kira’s sweaty forehead and brushes back the hair clinging to her face and neck. Kira reaches half-heartedly for Malia, mumbling about how Malia still hasn’t gotten off, but Malia firmly swats away Kira’s hands. “It’s fine. Sleep,” she says emphatically. 

Kira doesn’t argue. She lets Malia arrange their limbs with Malia as the big spoon. She barely manages to stay awake long enough to press a grateful kiss to Malia’s shoulder before she’s out. 

Malia stays awake longer, arms securely draped over Kira’s hips and legs tangled comfortably. She plants idle kisses on the back of Kira’s neck, lazily rubs her thumb over the back of Kira’s hand. She watches the shafts of moonlight filter into their room as the stars rise outside. Finally, Malia focuses on the familiar beat of Kira’s heart beside her and lets the cadence lull the restlessness buzzing under her skin. 

Running around the preserve as a coyote for half her life didn’t give her a lot of experience with what love feels like. But if Malia had to guess, she thinks it would feel a lot like this. 


End file.
